


just a little taste of where I came from

by janie_tangerine



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Bittersweet, Canon Gay Character, Gen, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, One-Sided Relationship, R plus L equals J, Spoilers for Book 5 - A Dance with Dragons, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-06 02:50:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4205166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janie_tangerine/pseuds/janie_tangerine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“I wish I could have proved you wrong,” Rhaegar finally says. “But I just can’t. I’m – I’m glad you told me, though. I have suspected it for some time, but I would not ask you in case I was mistaken.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Very well then. I will go now, and if we pretend that this never happened maybe it would be for the best.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Maybe. But – wait a moment. I merely wanted to tell you that I am flattered that you’d think of me such,” Rhaegar says, his voice going even lower. Jon can barely hear him. “I can’t give you anything that you might want from me. But – well. If I ever have a second son, I would be honored to name him after you.”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	just a little taste of where I came from

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hohner_07](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hohner_07/gifts).
  * Translation into Español available: [Un atisbo de mi historia](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11738307) by [Mizu_umi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mizu_umi/pseuds/Mizu_umi)



> written on tumblr ages ago combining two prompts from [striped-coat](http://striped-coat.tumblr.com/)\- one was _Rhaegar promises Jon C. that he’s going to name his kid after him. Years later Jon C. meets Jon S. Feelings._ , the other was _'Rhaegar knows that Jon C. is in love with him even before Jon knew himself, but he never could reciprocate.’_ The title is from Gaslight Anthem, the only thing belonging to me is the speculation and I'm really sad Jon C. is never going to have show spotlight. /random

_Then_

It’s not that Jon hadn’t imagined how it would go, if he ever told Rhaegar. He knew he was going to get  _no_  for an answer.

He knows he shouldn’t have bothered, but – it was just eating him up from the inside. You can’t keep that kind of secret to yourself this long without feeling like it’s going to kill you at some point, and with the situation being this frail between the king and his Hand and the feeling he has that it won’t be too long before something goes wrong, he figured he should just tell Rhaegar and be done with it. Not that he did it with any hope that his feelings might be reciprocated, but – at worst, the answer would have been what he expected. And if not – if not, it was worth trying, wasn’t it?

So Jon told him and he understood in a moment that the tiny sliver of hope he hadn’t even bothered to nurture was useless. It’s all in the way Rhaegar’s looking at him right now, his eyes so very sad and looking as if he’s trying to find a way to not let him down too badly. Jon figures he might as well save him the effort.

“I know,” he says, feeling a knot come up in his throat. “I just figured I should tell you for – for honestly. But I wasn’t expecting you to say anything other than what you’re struggling to put into words.”

Rhaegar looks slightly less uncomfortable at that, but then he shakes his head and takes a step closer.

“I wish I could have proved you wrong,” he finally says. “But I just can’t. I’m – I’m glad you told me, though. I have suspected it for some time, but I would not ask you in case I was mistaken.”

“Very well then. I will go now, and if we pretend that this never happened maybe it would be for the best.”

“Maybe. But – wait a moment. I merely wanted to tell you that I am flattered that you’d think of me such,” Rhaegar says, his voice going even lower. Jon can barely hear him. “I can’t give you anything that you might want from me. But – well. If I ever have a second son, I would be honored to name him after you.”

“I would have twice the honor,” Jon replies, fighting the urge to cry. He manages to keep it in until Rhaegar is gone, and then he only lets a few tears fall, wiping them away abruptly. He knows that it’s not going to happen – if she became pregnant again, Elia Martell would probably die along with the child she carried and that’s something everyone around the court knows. But still, he figures, the point wasn’t really that he’d see anything like that happening. He’s just glad that Rhaegar doesn’t hate him after this.

_Now_

Jon wraps his fur tighter around himself, looking up at the Wall looming above him. It’s dark night, but it’s not any news – neither of them has seen the sun in days. Not since the Long Night began. He can see fire coming from the top – right. Daenerys’ dragons. Then again, aren’t they here because they all agreed that it was time to put differences aside in light of the fact that the Others were about to storm the entire kingdom, or so the letter from the Lord Commander said.

Well. Not just the Lord Commander. Also Azor Ahai, from what people tell. Jon sighs and thinks that Rhaegar must have been wrong about that prophecy, if Azor Ahai is the bastard son of Ned Stark. Whose name he can’t even remember right now,  but it’s been a long couple of weeks from King’s Landing to here, and having decided to find a maester to cut off his infected fingers before leaving has helped stopping the infection, but isn’t making him feel any stronger.

A fat boy dressed in black with a maester’s chain around his neck meets them at the gate. “Lord Connington?”

“That’s me. The rest of the army is a few hours behind me, but I figured someone should give you a warning that men are coming.”

“Thank you. Well, the Lord Commander would see you now, if you aren’t too tired.”

“I’m not.” Jon follows the boy inside, noticing that most of the black brothers around are either too young or too old, and is led until the yard, where he can see mostly wildlings practicing swordfights.

“Walk up to that tower. He knows you’re coming. And he apologizes for not meeting you outside, but – uh. He’s… kind of wary of being outside in the dark if there’s no need. You will surely understand it.”

“Of course,” Jon thinks, and who wouldn’t avoid being outside in the dark when you’ve been stabbed in the back by people you were supposed to trust? That particular tale has spread all over Westeros. He supposes that Daenerys might be on the top with her dragons, but he has no need to meet her now and see someone else that reminds him of Rhaegar on top of everything.

He walks up the stairs to the top of the tower, then knocks on the door.

“Come in.”

Jon walks inside and finds himself in a room full of lighted candles. The table in the middle is covered in maps and pieces of paper and letters, and the boy dressed in black standing behind it – well, that’s the image of Ned Stark come back to life twenty years younger. Same hair, same shape of the face, same eyes, except that his father hadn’t ever looked this wary at his age.

“Lord Connington, I suppose?”

“Lord Commander. Yes, you suppose right.”

“Are you on your own?”

“The others are on their way but sent me in first to make sure that you knew we were coming.”

“It makes sense. I’m afraid I cannot give your men great quarters – a lot of the Wall was destroyed… a few months ago. There’s still the tower next to this one – it might be a bit crowded, but less than the common halls.”

“A bit crowded?”

The boy shrugs. “Stannis Baratheon, his Hand, his red woman and his daughter are in there. Along with my step-sister. And Asha Greyjoy. And a few other people.”

His  _half-sister_. Must be Sansa Stark then – so  _everyone_  with some power did really come here. “The only problem – well, I just hope you won’t mind that my aunt is in there, too?”

“Your – aunt? Isn’t Lyanna Stark dead?”

“Oh. You don’t know then. Well, I did try to keep it secret.” The boy goes red in the face, just slightly, but it’s a welcome change from the everlasting pallor Jon has seen until now. “Well, uhm, after I – after I died and came back, I can’t really say it differently, it turned out that I might have been mistaken about my parents. Just after, Howland Reed arrived here with my brother’s – Robb Stark’s will. Where he said that I was supposed to inherit, but then he asked me if my lord father had ever told me the truth. I said I had no idea. And – the truth was that Lyanna Stark wasn’t my aunt, she was my mother.”

Jon’s blood goes cold at once. Right. Lyanna Stark did look remarkably like her brother, so it makes sense that he’d have taken after her. But if Lyanna Stark is his mother –

“Your aunt would be… Daenerys Targaryen?”

“Yes. I still don’t know how I should take it all, to be entirely honest. It was – I had never imagined that my father could really have been Rhaegar Targaryen out of everyone.  _Jon Snow_ , son of  _Rhaegar Targaryen_. That would have almost been hilarious, if I hadn’t had to die to find out – my lord, are you all right?”

 _Jon Snow._  The lad’s name is  _Jon Snow_ , and Jon  _knew_  but forgot it because it’s such a common name and he had figured Ned Stark would name his bastard after Jon Arryn, wouldn’t he?

“I am. It’s just – well, you couldn’t be blamed.  _Jon_  is no Targaryen name.”

“No, but – well, that’s the other curious thing. I guess I’ll never know about it, though.”

“What exactly?”

Jon shrugs. “Lord Reed said that my mother told Lord Stark to give me that name on her deathbed. Because my father had insisted on it. I wouldn’t know why he would pick it instead of a… well. As you said, a real Targaryen name. But I guess only the dead know by now.”

Jon gives his namesake a dumbfounded nod and then tells him that sharing will be no problem and maybe it could be the occasion to work things out between Aegon and Daenerys, but his heart is beating wildly in his chest, so much that he can barely hear himself speaking.

 _Rhaegar had insisted._  Gods, he had never thought that he might really do it, but he has the proof right in front of him and it really doesn’t change a thing that the boy hasn’t taken after his father at all. He’s this tempted to tell the truth, to say  _he named you after me_ , but it’s hardly the right moment or the right situation, for that matter.

He smiles a bit to himself though, as he walks down the stairs to the yard and waits for Aegon and their men to get here, and he also might feel a bit dizzy, but he thinks he’s justified if he is.

Jon Snow. Who would have imagined. But he also can’t fight the small grin that touches his mouth, and for a moment he’s about to step out into the yard, but then he realizes that Jon Snow has waited all his life years for someone to tell him about his true heritage, and he had to – well,  _die_  to get proof of it.

Maybe it’s time someone actually does tell him the truth without waiting, also because if any of them dies when the Others come there won’t be time.

He goes back upstairs.

“I forgot to tell you something,” Jon says. Jon Snow looks at him with Ned Stark’s eyes, seeming slightly surprised, but willing to listen if anything.

“What, my lord?”

“I – I know why your father wanted to name you like that. And – well, you waited this long to find out who he really was, maybe you’d want to know that now.”

“I – I would. Want to know I mean.”

“Well, it’s a long story but there’s time before the others arrive. See,” he says, “your father and I – we used to be close friends.” He stops a moment and clears his throat before going on, and if Jon Snow’s eyes seem to become slightly softer with time as the story goes on, Jon isn’t going to be the person who thinks less of him for it.

 

End.


End file.
